


Behind the Lens

by RK Ten Hundred (Shokubenii)



Series: RK1K Week 2019 [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor/Markus - Freeform, M/M, RK1KWeeek, Slice of Life, rk1k - Freeform, rk1k week 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 10:42:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17343842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shokubenii/pseuds/RK%20Ten%20Hundred
Summary: RK1K Week Day 1: Connor doesn't notice the crush Markus has on him.





	Behind the Lens

“You’re smart,” the voice rumbled over the piece in Markus’ left ear. “Do math.”  
  
“You won’t get anywhere like this if you don’t do things for yourself, Connor,” he replied. He turned to the island behind him, small pot in hand. He carefully emptied its contents onto a square porcelain plate, mindful not to let the fork scrape the the pot itself, not wanting to irritate his friend’s ear.  
  
The answering sigh was explosive over the tiny receiver. “I struggle all day in school by myself! Doesn’t that count for anything?”  
  
Markus rolled his mismatched eyes. He set the pot into the sink and turned on the tap. “If you’re struggling, then it means you’re not doing enough to stand on your own in the first place.”  
  
“Help,” Connor intoned in a hushed whisper. “Not hinder.”  
  
Markus chuckled, pressing the tap’s lever with his free hand. “I’m helping,” he says, “A true friend tells you your faults and gives you useful tips to guide you along life.”  
  
“Well, true friend,” came the patronizing drawl. “you’re currently hindering me from getting good grades with as little headache as possible.”  
  
Dark brows raised. “I’m helping you learn some self-discipline.” Markus moved to open the fridge, bending to look inside.  
  
“And that’s all fine and dandy, but it’s not helping my current situation.”  
  
“But it’s helping you with life lessons,” Markus grabbed a beer and closed the fridge with a bare heel.  
  
“Markus. Focus.”  
  
“Hey, that rhymed!”  
  
“You’re being impossible.”  
  
“No, I’m helping.”  
  
Connor groaned. “You’re just an accurate bullshitter who doesn’t want to do math to help a friend.”  
  
The bottle hit the island with a clunk. “Let’s not go there.”  
  
“You went there all by yourself, Picasso.” The mischief bled into the tutting noises clicking into the ear piece.  
  
“Connor…”  
  
“Come on! Do math, damn it.”  
  
Markus grunted, taking a swig of beer. “Do it yourself.”  
  
“Now, don’t be like that.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Markus.”  
  
He shoved some of the pasta into his mouth, leaning onto the island, chewing leisurely. “Nope.”  
  
“God, Markus, don’t be a dick.”  
  
Markus ignored him for another mouthful of pasta.  
  
“You insufferable ass,” came the hiss on the other end. Markus hid his laughter within the sip of his beer.  
  
“Now, Con-Con, that’s not very nice.”  
  
“Please?” came the tiny wheedle after a few moments of silence, broken only by Markus shoveling leftovers into his mouth.  
  
The bolus struggled pat is throat and into his chest, down to the nearly unwelcoming stomach. Markus grimaced and sighed. “Fine. Give me the sum.”  
  
Connor crowed gleefully on the other end. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”  
  
 His heart seized for a bare moment, a vice wrought around his voice. Instead he tried for an irritated grunt. “Pure bullshit,”  
  
“Acting mean is a sham and you know it,” Connor sang, thankfully unaware.  
  
“You only want me for my smarts,” he weakly recovered.  
  
“Damn straight.”  
  
Markus allowed himself a wry smile. He took his plate and headed out to the living room, using his elbow to flip the light switch off in passing.  
  
Large pictures of beaches and mountains hugged the beige walls of the living room, smaller images of family and friends cascading between them showing his increasing skill with the lens.  
  
The photographer set his dinner onto the glass coffee table, turning back to the shelf he passed to grab a notepad and a pen. He settled into the button-studded chaise lounge that assumed the position of ‘couch’ in his otherwise modest apartment. He got it as a prop, originally, for a studio he’d failed to get his hands on. So it sat there for day-to-day seating at his leisure.  
  
Assuming his seat on the chaise, he prepped himself. “Alright, I’m listening.”  
  
“And send me a good picture of the graph,” Connor added after doing as bade.  
  
“The fu—.” Markus paused, almost wanting to take the ear piece off and glare at his friend through the small device. “Do you even know the actual definition of the word ‘help?’”  
  
“This is helping,” Connor seemed to soothe. “It’s sharing the load of my mathematical burdens.”  
  
“You’re asking me to do your homework for you, Con.”  
  
“Semantics.”  
  
“Connor…”  
  
“It’s not polite to judge, Markus.”  
  
Markus flicked the pen to rest between his fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Fucking hell, Con—.”  
  
“I’m not skipping millions of classes and actually making the effort to stay in college with a decent average,” Connor reasoned.  
  
Markus couldn’t truly argue the point. Connor barely made it out of high school and his only options were all of two community colleges. But he was by no means incapable. He was just… He was dealing with family issues no one should have to experience. And Markus just happened to be there to pick up the pieces.  
  
He took the notes.  
  
He taught Connor what he missed.  
  
Did some of the homework and shouldered the majority of their projects.  
  
It was frighteningly necessary sometimes.  
  
The silence gave concession on one end and triumph on the other.  
  
“Hating you,” Markus grumbled.  
  
“Stop that,” Connor snorted. “You love me.”  
  
The words hit him like a shot and it took a moment for Markus to come back to himself, heart clenched so forcefully it took his breath away. Sometimes—times like these—he started to wonder if Connor really knew the truth. He may love the brunette with everything he had and had a problem saying no to him (cue current math homework), but he was sure he hadn’t let anything on.  
  
Had he?  
  
“Be back in a few, buddy,” Connor’s voice tore through his thoughts. Markus hummed absently in acknowledgment, finally getting his hand to work for him and do the given sum. The sound of bed springs licked at his ear and for a moment, his mind went contrary.  
  
Markus paused his calculations and took a much needed drink from the cold bottle.  
  
_Hating that I love you,_ he thought morosely, running a hand over his face.  
  
He got back to work, silently waiting for Connor to come back.  


**Author's Note:**

> I'm late af to the party, but here's the first thing for RK1K week. Do enjoy.


End file.
